Unravel
by papillon-chaotique
Summary: 5x09 "Last Resort" post-ep; Somehow a simple cry for his attention has now spiraled into something far beyond her grasp, and she thinks perhaps it’s much too late to turn back. And so, instead, she stupidly forges on.


**TITLE:** Unravel

**RATING:** R

**PAIRING:** canon Chase/Cameron

**WORDS:** 5, 347

**SPOILERS:** Everything up to and through "Last Resort"

**WARNINGS:** Language

**SUMMARY:** _She came here tonight to make sure he knows how she felt today – how she still feels, illogically, even now – but somehow a simple cry for his attention has now spiraled into something far beyond her grasp, and she thinks perhaps it's much too late to turn back._

**NOTES:** Despite being a post-ep, this story is a foreign concept to Chase/Cam canon. This was born out of several wishful-thinking conversations about the idea of Cameron completely falling apart, and there's simply no way of knowing for sure if this is or isn't how something like that would play out. All I ask is that it be read with an open mind and an intention to enjoy another side of this awesome pairing. Many thanks to **ikilledkenny86** for being so demanding :-p After this episode aired, I jokingly said "I bet she went home that night and smacked him upside the head." – it was demanded that this joke be turned into fic. The credit for turning said joke into the dramatic angst-fest it is now goes to my incredible friend and beta, **enigma731**, who helped me to flesh out the concept and remained supportive and patient even when I wanted to throw it out.

**____________________________________**

"_While you are away, my heart comes undone; slowly unravels in a ball of yarn." _- Bjork

The digital clock on the cable box above the television announces the current time as 10:47p.m, and the neon-green numbers shine so brightly in the pitch-black darkness of this room that even the quickest glance in their direction causes Cameron to convince herself that she may go temporarily blind from the overpowering nature of it all. The doctor in her knows that she's being completely ridiculous, but her vulnerable side thinks maybe ridiculous is exactly the type of thing she needs to keep her mind off of the real reason she's been sitting on Chase's sofa – alone and in the dark – for over two hours now.

In truth, this day has simply been too exhausting, too dramatic and full of suspense. Cameron can't help but think that an enraged gunman on the prowl for a diagnosis is the perfect example of that constant flood of craziness that Chase so recently tried to remind her it was their mission to avoid. It's a mission she continuously fails, even as Chase consistently stands his ground. But as the sound of his key in the door causes her to jump slightly in the silence, Cameron remembers yet again that standing his ground is exactly what brought her here in the first place.

Her body remaining perfectly still, she focuses her eyes on the thin strips of moonlight creeping in from between the mini-blinds and stretching out along the wall as she hears the front door finally open and artificial light floods the room around her. Keys drop onto the table beside the door, followed by the rustling of clothing as Chase slips out of his coat and hangs it on the hook upon the wall before finally exiting the foyer and making his way toward the bedroom. He's halfway to his destination before he actually catches sight of her, stopping dead in his tracks and looking at her statuesque form in confusion.

"Hi," he finally blurts out in that surprised-yet-endearing tone she's heard so many times before. "I, um, I wasn't actually expecting – are you all right?"

She still hasn't even blinked, much less turned her head to meet his eyes in greeting, and she knows he's wondering if something horrible happened during the hostage crisis that he doesn't know about yet. She wishes it were actually that simple.

"Okay, you're starting to scare me now, so I need you to – "

"Sucks, doesn't it?" she finally pipes up, but keeps her eyes focused on the wall in front of her.

"Wh – what? What does?" Chase has started slowly moving in her direction, wanting to be close enough to comfort her if needed but still too confused about the situation to know whether or not that would just make things worse.

Before he can get any closer, though, Cameron's up and moving toward his kitchen. Chase follows slowly, studying her carefully as she begins to rifle through his pantry. He decides whatever's on her mind tonight must not be very serious if she's casually rummaging for food like she always does. And if nothing serious is to blame for her mood, then Chase is more than happy to stand back and watch in amusement. After all, she's pretty adorable when she's annoyed for no reason.

Grabbing the box of Special K she keeps here (along with many other snacks Chase is more than happy to keep his hands off of), Cameron marches over to the cabinets and begins pulling them open one by one.

"I thought you said this morning that you wanted to order from that new pizza place tonight…"

"Yeah, well," she replies distractedly, still opening and closing cabinets as if she hasn't practically lived here for over a year, "that was this morning. And maybe if you hadn't taken so damn long to get home, I wouldn't be forced to eat cereal for dinner just to keep myself from starving after – what the fuck, Chase? Where are the bowls?"

Chase says nothing in reply, but finally crosses the kitchen to where she's standing and opens the cabinet beside the refrigerator with a bemused smirk across his face. Slowly and teasingly, he removes one from the top of the stack and holds it out to her, shaking it just a little to make sure she knows it's there and letting out a breath of laughter when she angrily snatches it from his grasp.

"You are such an ass. When did you move them?" she demands, knowing it was her own mindless mistake but refusing to let him win tonight.

"Um, let me think," Chase replies playfully, eyes rolling upward in an overly dramatic show of pretending to do the math. "I guess it must have been the day I moved in. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Cameron snaps back, turning around to place her bowl on the counter and fill it with cereal flakes. "You never answered my question. Why are you so late?"

"You never actually asked. Just made a statement."

Leaning back against the fridge, Chase eyes her suspiciously and takes a deep breath when she doesn't reply, knowing she's not actually going to ask now but still expects him to provide her with the answer. "My last surgery ran long. We had a few complications that put us about two hours behind."

"And, what, you couldn't have called to tell me that? Instead of making me sit around all night wondering where you were?"

She's being completely irrational, she knows, so it comes as no real surprise when his face finally contorts from amusement to frustration as his arms cross defensively over his chest. "Yes, you're right, I was elbow-deep in human organs but I should have called a surgical timeout to make a phone call to my apparently-insane girlfriend so that she'd know dinner would be delayed."

The muscles in her jaw clench and the faint sound of grinding teeth fills the air between them before Cameron inhales deeply and turns to face him, one hand leaning against the countertop while the other rests strategically upon her hip. "It's not about dinner. I don't _care_ about dinner. I have _cereal_, see?" she spits, the pitch of her voice rising just a little as she tilts her head in the direction of her milkless bowl. "Dinner is saved!"

"Then what is the damn problem, here?" His confusion and frustration are completely on the surface now, and Cameron knows he's fighting desperately to keep from actually yelling at her. Nevertheless, she can't seem to stop herself from pushing him further and further toward his boiling point.

"I didn't know where you were! _That's_ the damn problem, you jackass!"

"First of all, since you have apparently forgotten everything you know about how the hospital is run, you could have just called the OR desk for a status update on my surgery – like you _always_ do on the days when you're _actually sane_ – if you were that concerned! And secondly, I _did_ have one of the nurses call your place to let you know, since _that's_ actually where you _told me_ you'd be! Don't get all bent just because you're the one who wasn't home when the phone rang."

Arm dropping from her hip to her side, Cameron's face softens slightly as she realizes yet again how hard he always tries to take care of her. "Fine," she whispers, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she gazes longingly into his eyes. But just as quickly as it washed over her, the feeling of peace vanishes, replaced again by irrational anger and indescribable fear as she thinks about just how much his eyes mean to her now.

"Actually, no – not fine. Would it have _killed_ you to have her try me on my cell?"

"Would it have killed _you_ to pick up that cell phone and call the godforsaken OR desk for an update? You cannot seriously be mad at me about this! Surgeries run long all the time, it's not like this is the first time I've gotten out late! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Chase finally explodes, voice booming off the walls in complete frustration as he watches Cameron calmly turn and pick up the bowl of cereal from the counter.

"Move," is all she says in reply, taking a few steps toward the refrigerator that he's still blocking and reaching to shove him out of her way. Chase steps back, mostly of surprise, and Cameron quietly reaches into the fridge for the milk.

"You're not going to answer me now? You pick a ridiculous fight and just decide you're bored with it halfway through?" He is positively fuming now, and Cameron finds herself hoping a migraine is in his near future as she walks the milk and her bowl across the kitchen to his table. "Real mature, Allison! So that's it? You're just going to sit here, in _my_ house, and give me the silent treatment all night?"

Cameron's heart is twisting inside her chest, every angry shout from him tying yet another knot in her stomach. This isn't what she wants, but it's the only thing she knows. She came here tonight to make sure he knows how she felt today – how she still feels, illogically, even now – but somehow a simple cry for his attention has now spiraled into something far beyond her grasp, and she thinks perhaps it's much too late to turn back.

And so, instead, she stupidly forges on.

"Ugh," she winces in disgust, nose to the open milk carton. "God, Chase, do you _ever_ throw anything out? This stuff is rancid!"

"Cameron!"

And now she knows she's really done it. There are only two occasions under which Chase calls her by her surname anymore: Whenever they're around other people at the hospital, or when he's angry enough to punch his fist through a solid brick wall without feeling even an ounce of pain. She knows now is the time to stop this; if she pushes him any farther, it's unlikely there will be anything left at all to salvage in the renewing light of morning. Yet still, she can't seem to find the movement in her body to place herself safely in his arms, and the words of apology and true explanation remain trapped by the lump in her throat.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Chase throw his arms up in defeat and quickly turn on his heel to back out of this madness. If she lets him get away, she's lost him for certain.

"What are you even _doing_ here?" she yells at his retreating figure, desperately hoping it's enough to draw him back into the Twilight Zone-esque battle she's created out of thin air tonight.

Backtracking the few angry steps he's just taken forward, Chase turns to face her again, incredibly slowly. Cameron can see a blazing inferno taking over his eyes; the kind of rage she once thought he was incapable of feeling – and perhaps he always was, until she came along and spent the past two years setting his comfortably routine life completely off-balance.

"Uh – I _live_ here?"

"We agreed to stay at _my_ place tonight. But you came _here_ after work instead."

She watches as Chase's eyes go wide with disbelief and he takes another step in her direction. "_You're_ here! Holy shit, Cameron, what kind of psychotic mind game is this?"

"It's not a game!" she shouts, matching his volume now and slowly moving in on him as well. "You scared the hell out of me today!"

"It was two fucking hours!" Chase roars, eyes shooting toward the heavens above for any sort of assistance in this nightmare, as he grabs fistfuls of his hair to keep from physically damaging anything – or anyone – within his reach.

"No, it wasn't!" Cameron cries out as she suddenly rushes forward several more steps until less than a foot of space remains between them. "You can't _do_ that to me! Why don't you just leave me now and get it over with, since you _clearly_ have no concern for how I feel!"

Chase closes his eyes tightly, inhaling slowly and deeply before finally daring to look at her again upon the exhale. He leans into her, closing the great divide so that only an inch separates their faces, before staring into her eyes as calmly as possible and stating in his normal voice, "You're absurd."

"And you could have gotten yourself killed!"

Time suddenly seems to stop, both of them now completely frozen in place as confusion the color of baby-blue locks down on emerald honesty. Cameron can't quite believe she's actually just said it, and, having heard it with her own ears, she knows for certain how completely irrational the whole thing is.

Still lost in his eyes, Cameron is too caught up in her own fear of his response to even notice as Chase shifts slightly and reaches for her hand. "What are you talking about?" he whispers gently, brow still furrowed in absolute confusion, but understanding now that something is genuinely wrong here.

"Don't touch me," she growls, ripping her hand from his hold. She cant let him know now, not when she knows how ridiculous the whole thing sounds. It's too close to her heart, and having him reject the truth will hurt far worse than keeping it buried. But Chase's reflexes are faster than hers have ever been and he's caught her by the shoulders with both hands before she's even had a chance to step away.

"Hey – _wait_! What is this about? What happened?" Chase asks, voice filled with shock as he moves one hand to her waist in an effort to keep her still until he gets some answers.

"You're selfish!" she spits venomously, but can't bring herself to look him in the eyes as she makes the accusation. Fighting back against his hold on her, Cameron tries unsuccessfully to wriggle out of his grasp as her emotional control continues to deteriorate. She's dug herself in too deep to back out; now she'll have to finish the destruction that she's started, or come up with another explanation. "You're a selfish bastard who thinks of no one but himself! You walked out of that room without _any_ concern for innocent bystanders!"

"What?!" Chase responds in resurfacing anger as he tightens his grip and forces her to still long enough for him to talk to her properly. "I walked out because I _was_ concerned for those people! Helping House play his little game was putting them in more danger than I did by walking away from it!"

"Oh, so now _I'm_ the horrible person for actually staying to help? Let go of me, Chase!"

And suddenly she's flailing again, hoping to catch him off guard and make her escape. Chase is still quicker, predicting her every move and trapping her tightly in his grasp all over again.

"No! But you can't think – would you just be still? Allison, stop!"

"No! Let go of me! You're just a selfish jerk, and you can't even admit you were wrong!" Cameron's nails are digging into his arms now, not caring if she draws blood so long as she can get out of here without having to tell the truth. "You walked out of that room without _any_ concern for what could happen! Not a single fucking thought about what those people were feeling! You didn't give a _shit_ about the risk if he had needed an answer only you would know, and if he _killed you_ for it before I – "

Oops.

Cameron has suddenly gone perfectly still, even her haggard breathing having stopped completely as she realizes she's done it again. Surely she won't be able to get out of confessing now, and the anxiety over having to do so is already pushing her closer to the emotional edge.

She knows Chase must be looking at her desperately, but it's all she can do to stare straight at his chest and focus on breathing deeply before she actually explodes.

"Hey," Chase pleads with her, trying to be patient now and finally get to the bottom of this insanity. "Why do you keep saying that? How could have I gotten myself killed?"

Cameron bites down painfully hard on her lip to will the tears in her eyes not to fall, because she knows his gentle worry in the midst of so much chaos will be the end of her if he keeps it up. She can't take much more – the pent-up fear and emotion is so close to the surface now that she wonders if releasing it might actually be less painful than holding it in, no matter how he reacts to the truth.

"Ally, _please_." He's begging now and it's more than she can take. "Why would I have gotten killed? What did I do? What are you scared of?"

And when he places a finger under her chin to lift her eyes to his, the dam finally breaks and Cameron snaps.

"You left!' she cries out, shoving him forcefully before he manages to grab hold of her once again. "You just _left me_ there, and I hate you! He could have gotten away! He could have come after you – killed you for being such an _unsympathetic_ pain in the ass, but - Let go of me, dammit! You didn't even care! You just left me there, you selfish jackass! You _left me_ and you didn't once consider that maybe _I_ needed you there!"

Chase is left speechless with every new word out of her mouth, never having imagined that _this_ would be the root of the evening's infuriating war. He wants to find the words to make it all okay again, but at the moment he's slightly mesmerized at the sight of his intensely private girlfriend having an emotional breakdown in his arms.

"It's not fair!" her screams continue as they reverberate against his chest. "You let me sit here for two fucking hours, terrified, thinking what if – even though I _knew_ it wasn't poss – but something _else_ could have - and I can't – and you didn't even fucking _care_, because you're so goddamn selfish and I _hate_ you!" she finishes in a fantastic rush, fists now clenched and pounding desperately against every inch of his torso as she finally falls over the edge. "I hate you, I hate you, I can't believe you did that to me – you can't _leave me_, you selfish! Fucking! Bastard!"

And suddenly she's crumbling against him, tears flowing like melted glaciers down a mountainside, as Chase finally manages to wrap his arms around her tightly, holding her to him in a desperate embrace as he tries to make sense of what's just transpired in his kitchen.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispers into her hair, left hand reaching up to run soothing fingers through her golden locks before assuring her, "I'm okay. I'm right here."

Loosening his grasp and pulling away from her slightly, Chase leans back and cups her face in his hands so that she'll actually be forced to look him in the eye. "I'm right here, Ally."

Cameron is emotionally spent, no longer interested in putting up a fight as her heart continues to break a little more with every second she loses herself in his eyes, remembering what happened the last time she let a man's eyes affect her so deeply. She knows she would never survive if she had to go through a loss like that again, and what frightens her most is the knowledge deep within that – even though she may never admit it – Chase's eyes mean more to her than the last.

"C'mon," Chase says quietly, breaking the silence that has fallen around them while they've simply studied one another. Leaning in to place a lingering kiss upon her forehead, he finally drops his hands from her face and shows her the slightest hint of a smile as he wraps an arm around her waist and motions toward the living room. When Cameron makes no effort to release the wads of his shirt she has tightly crumpled into her hands, Chase reaches down to remove them and wraps her arms around his neck, bending just slightly to grab hold behind her knees and lift her into his embrace. Cradling her against his chest as Cameron continues to cry softly into his shoulder, Chase carries her to the over-stuffed sofa she was rooted to when he first walked in the door. Slowly, Chase lowers her onto the cushions, suddenly acutely aware of how tiny and fragile she actually is, before grabbing the box of tissues from the coffee table and settling in beside her.

"You care to tell me what just happened?"

Cameron grabs a few Kleenex from the box in his hands and dabs at her nose and eyes, still trying to get her breathing under control once again. "I'm sorry," she tells him desperately.

Chase shakes his head vigorously, reaching out to take hold of her free hand and wrap it up in both of his own. "Just talk to me."

It takes almost a full minute of Cameron chewing on her lip and sucking in ragged breaths before she's finally in control enough to trust herself with full sentences again. "When House – when he told the gunman who you were… suggested he find you later and take revenge… I don't know, I just…"

"He was _joking_, babe," Chase notes just above a whisper, bewildered and amazed that Cameron would ever take anything House says seriously anymore.

"It was a joke to _House_," she says more confidently now. "You have no idea if that guy could have taken him seriously. I mean, you didn't even think – "

"Okay," he stops her quickly, not wanting her to get worked up all over again. "You're right. I didn't think about it like that. But I couldn't stand there and be a part of House's games again. Not when doing so was basically advocating hospital terrorism to land a speedy diagnosis. I don't fault you for staying – for _helping_; it's who you are and it's part of what I love about you… but you do understand _why_ I left, don't you?"

Cameron nods silently before looking down at their melded hands. "And I respect you for it, I honestly do. Putting your patients' health and safety before any crazy guessing games – it makes you a better doctor. And, ya know…it's kind of hot every time I get to see you stand up for yourself," she lifts her head and smiles at him just barely before turning stoically serious again, "but it's not fun when it scares the hell out of me."

"Understood," Chase tells her before a smile begins to slowly creep across his lips and Cameron recognizes the mischief behind his eyes. "Watching me stand my ground turns you on? If I'd known it was that easy…"

"Don't flatter yourself," Cameron snaps without missing a beat; she loves that he always knows just what to say to make her laugh or take her mind off of whatever might be trying to infect her spirit. And she knows now, for certain, that tonight's unraveling has confirmed for Chase all of the emotions she feels yet still cannot find the words to express. Her every secret affection for him was laid bare in his presence as she fell apart in his arms, and she can't help but wonder if maybe it was the best thing that could have possibly happened in the wake of her irrational fears.

"Are we okay?" he asks tentatively, a hint of a smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. Chase waits for her to nod assuredly in response and then squeezes her hand before giving it back to her and scooting closer to place a quick kiss on her cheek. "How about some hot chocolate? Go get ready for bed and I'll bring it in."

Cameron watches in awe as he stands from the couch and makes his way back into the kitchen where she treated him so terribly only moments ago. Standing slowly and never taking her eyes from Chase as he pulls a mug from one of the cabinets – the middle one to the left of the bowls; in truth, she knows his place better than her own – Cameron takes a few steps forward before her thoughts escape from her lips, unbidden.

"You're too good to me. I don't deserve…"

Chase glances over his shoulder and chuckles just a little. "Why don't you let me be the judge of that, yeah? Go. Get in bed. I'll be there in a minute."

Shaking her head slightly in amazement, Cameron complies and heads into his bedroom where she changes into a pair of her pajama pants (from a drawer of her very own) and the ratty old rugby t-shirt that swallows her whole but smells distinctly of Chase. She suspects it forever will, no matter how many times it's laundered.

By the time Chase enters only minutes later, mug of hot chocolate in hand, Cameron is seated on the still-made bed and staring at the walls again.

"Here you are," he says proudly, snapping her out of her daze and handing the mug in her direction. "You sure you're all right now?"

She nods slightly, blowing on the steaming liquid a little before taking a few sips as she watches Chase strip down to his boxers and disappear into the bathroom to brush his teeth before returning to crawl onto the bed beside her. He props himself up on one elbow and meets her eyes with such love and compassion that Cameron finds it hard to breathe again. Reaching up, Chase tucks a loose strand of blonde behind her ear and sighs.

"I'm sorry. Under the circumstances, I should have at least talked to you about it before walking out. I should have checked in with you throughout the day. There are certain cases, I suppose, when we have to think about each other as more than just colleagues – no matter what we promised would be the rule from the start." His eyes are cast downward now, focused on picking invisible lint from the comforter, and Cameron knows this means he's feeling just a little insecure. "I walked out, and I figured the team was fine because they were with you. " He pauses just long enough to glance up and evaluate her reaction before returning to the non-existent lint and sighing heavily, finishing sincerely with, "But I should have looked after my girlfriend, too."

By the time he finally gets up the nerve to lift his eyes to hers once again, Chase finds Cameron gazing at him in brow-furrowed concentration as she tries to take in his heartfelt apology. "I don't hate you," she finally whispers. Cameron takes a deep breath and wraps both hands even more tightly around the warm mug, staring into the dark brown depths and willing herself to apologize to him just as openly. "I'm sorry, too. It's just that I–" But just like every time before, she can't seem to finish the thought; to express the feeling. And she hopes more than anything that, after everything that's happened tonight, Chase already knows those last two words her fear won't allow her to say.

"Allison…" he says, and the gentle whisper of her name on his lips sends shivers up Cameron's spine like always. When she feels him place a hand on her thigh and lightly squeeze, she finally looks up and realizes he's looking at her in that way she knows means he's trying to read her mind. She's not sure how he does it, but she's certain he can tell there's still some part of the story she's holding back. And after tonight, he deserves to know every detail of what's caused this implosion.

"I trusted my husband completely." She starts tentatively, always unsure of how this topic will make him feel. "I jumped in headfirst. I thought that not even his death would be enough to alter who I am. But I was wrong."

Taking another several sips of the liquid affection she's sure she has not earned tonight, Cameron chances a glimpse in Chase's direction to gauge whether or not she should actually continue. His eyes are on her with focus, silently encouraging her to let him deeper into this part of her world.

It's one more big sip from the mug and then she continues.

"The other day, you told me you understood that losing him made it hard for me to get attached again. You said that, and I trusted you that you really did. I trusted you enough to start believing again."

She closes her eyes slowly and pulls that lip into her mouth yet again. Chase watches her intently, more curious now than ever before. "But?" he prompts.

"You just can't _say_ things like if you're going to turn around and--"

"Ally," he sighs, understanding the meaning in her silence "that was never my intention." Reaching out, Chase takes the nearly empty mug from her hands again and places it on the table at his side of the bed before turning back to face her with a patient grin. "I'm not that easy to get rid of, in case you still haven't noticed. And nothing's going to happen, all right? You're stuck with me until you kill me yourself."

"You don't know that, Chase. You don't always get a choice."

"I _do_ know. I didn't work my ass off to get this far with you only to let some fucked-up twist of fate end it early. We're not done yet, so I won't let it happen. But I'll be more careful next time a crazy gunman takes over the clinic, though, will that make you feel better?" Chase shoots her a wink and turns to start peeling the covers back from the top of the bed.

For what she's sure must be the thousandth time this evening, Cameron feels her heart swell with unspoken love at the very same time as her throat starts constricting with the guilt of knowing she's not done nearly enough over the years to earn such patience and goodness from this man. As she shifts to the foot of the bed so that he can finish turning down her side as well, Cameron suddenly knows for certain that he's worth trusting; worth getting even more attached to than she already is.

"Yes, please," she answers cheekily, crawling back up and beneath the comforter before dropping back against the pillows. Chase crawls in beside her and reaches across to pull the blanket up over her chest, tucking it tightly around her as she laughs softly.

"You're tucking me in? When did I turn four?... Don't answer that," she finishes when she notices the familiar mischief rise behind his eyes all over again.

"You've had a rough day. Now go to sleep." He rolls away to switch off the lamp beside the bed, flooding them both in darkness save for those tiny strips of moonlight exactly like the ones she lost herself in when this all began. Cameron feels him settling in beside her once more and turns her face in his direction, awaiting the gentle kiss she knows is next. But when it comes, she places a hand on Chase's face and holds him to her, deepening the kiss momentarily before slowly breaking away and whispering "thank you," hoping he knows exactly what for. Turning back onto her side, Cameron sighs heavily and finally relaxes into his arms as Chase spoons himself behind her and pulls her close.

"You're welcome. But you better not be angry that we're sleeping in _my_ bed tonight."

FIN.


End file.
